


Gattino

by sweetbutterbliss



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Dark Knight Rises (2012), Inception (2010)
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Fist Fights, Homophobia, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbutterbliss/pseuds/sweetbutterbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was amused to see that it had taken both of his brothers to bring the man into the room, and he was still struggling, his eyes fierce and his feet kicking out angrily.  Bane laughed, he was tired of sycophants and grovelers.  This man, who appeared too outraged to even feel any fear, was a breath of fresh air.  He would most certainly look forward to getting to know him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by [ Heather](http://theshorteststack.tumblr.com/), as always.
> 
> The idea of it first came from two RP'ers [ Pointmanparadox ](http://pointmanparadox.tumblr.com/) and [ iamyourreckoning. ](iamyourreckoning.tumblr.com/)Go follow all their tumblrs, right now.
> 
> Update! Fanart made by the generous [Tamat9](http://tamat9.tumblr.com/post/105736927678/inspired-by-this-awesome-and-hot-arthur-x-bane) embedded in chapter 2.

Arthur should have left Gotham with the others, after a failed extraction it was always safer to get the hell out of dodge. But really, if he spent one more minute with Cobb, he was going to beat him to death with the PASIV case. They'd all risked their actual sanity to get the idiot back to his family and he was _still_ taking stupid, dangerous jobs. And Arthur was _still_ agreeing to work with him, because he was a masochist apparently.

He'd changed hotels and checked in under a different alias, as a precaution. But he'd taken one look at the room, which could have been any of a dozen rooms he'd stayed in in the last year or so, and had to get out. He felt stifled and restless, the feeling he hated most of all. It made him feel out of control and that was unacceptable. He decided to take a walk, thinking that it might help him settle back into his own skin. 

He shuffled down the dirty streets with his hands shoved into his pockets, ruining the line of his suit and not giving one shit. He passed a street market which looked as though it was playing host to a thriving drug business more than crafts and foods. He noticed a few men hanging around the area, wearing red scarves and definitely packing. It probably wasn't obvious to the average person, but to someone like Arthur it stuck out like a sore thumb. He found he didn't really care. He knew Gotham used to be one colossal shit hole until recently. The powers that be had bragged that crime had been cleaned up, except for the part where they were hiring known criminals to extract from their police commissioner. Who had turned out to be militarized...by men dressed in bat suits for fuck's sake. Arthur raised his hand to the back of his head, where a projection had bashed him unconscious in the dream. He knew there wasn't anything there, but he had a lingering headache gnawing at his skull.

He walked a few blocks from his hotel, and came across the even shadier downtown district. People milled around on corners; he noticed more armed, red-scarved men in this area. He wished he could turn off his brain and not notice stuff like that, even for just one night. He didn't want to be Arthur 'the Point man' tonight, he just wanted to be a regular guy, looking for a possible hook up.

Alcohol and sex; maybe that would cheer him up. He'd focus on the first and see how things progressed with the other. He wasn't completely oblivious to his own particular charms and appearance, and he intended to utilize both of them to full advantage tonight. Decision made, he ducked into the first bar he came across. When his eyes adjusted, he unexpectedly let out a burst of laughter. The bartenders were all shirtless, wearing tiny shorts slung very low on their hips, and the clientele were almost 100% men. He congratulated himself on accidentally stumbling into just the kind of bar he needed. He could easily find someone to pick up here.

He decided to get a drink first though, allow himself some time to observe his options. He slid onto a stool and used the full force of his dimples whilst ordering a gin and tonic; he was gratified with a low murmur of _on the house, babe_ and a broad wink from the blond bartender. 

He already felt better. This was going to be too easy. He turned in his bar stool to survey the room for prospects. There must not have been many gay bars in Gotham because the place was pretty packed. He let his eyes skip over the first few men who tried to catch his eye, but he figured if he was going to indulge he might as well be picky. Besides, Arthur knew he was hot, he could have his pick. 

His eyes stopped mid sweep of the room, his mouth twisting in amusement at an older gentleman sitting alone in a booth. A tiny glass of something sitting in front of him, he lifted it in a salute to Arthur, who returned the gesture.

He wasn't interested though, so he kept scanning, his elbows resting on the bar; his hips pushed out suggestively. Across the room, he could make out a door and of course, another red-scarved man standing to one side of it. He was attempting to look casual, his face impassive, but the way his eyes did a calculated sweep of the room every minute told Arthur that the man was guarding the door.

For a minute his curiosity overwhelmed him, and he thought about trying to get past the man and through the door. Then he remembered that he didn't care. 

_Right, don't care. Going to need more alcohol for this_ he thought as he turned back to the bar, waving his empty glass with another killer smile. 

***

Bane was paying no attention to the man beside to him. He would get his way in the end and there wasn't any harm in letting the man feel self important and blather on. He allowed his gaze to wander to the one way mirror set into the wall, he should have known that this disgusting, feeble excuse for a man would choose to meet at such a place. Men, half naked and intoxicated, grinding against each other artlessly. They all looked the same to him; desperate and enslaved to their desires. Bane was no stranger to sex, and could appreciate another's beauty, he merely chose to control his desires as he saw fit.

He continued to permit the other man, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, to talk while his mind wandered. What a pretentious and useless name. Much like the man himself. Bane knew the men here called him 'The Penguin,' and he could see why; he was short, obese, and had an unfortunate, crooked nose. Bane had also observed that he tended to waddle when he walked, and somehow always managed to smell of fish.

None of this concerned Bane really, all he needed was information on the Batman, and he would get it; one way or another. The Penguin's voice had long since become a nasaly drone, tiresome to Bane's ears, but it receded further into the distance when he caught sight of a man through the mirror. He was dancing with another, one of no consequence to Bane, his head thrown back as he moved gracefully, despite his partner's lack of rhythm. He had dark, sweaty curls plastered to his forehead and the back of his long neck, and dimples that made him look too young to be in an establishment such as this. He was beautiful; though not just physically. Bane could see a fire in him, something fierce and wild, and yet somehow still under control. He inhaled sharply, the rush of anagelsic making him almost dizzy for just a moment, and turned to Barsad who stood to his right, looking sleepy and unconcerned. He might have appeared that way to others, but Bane knew differently, his brother was always prepared and alert; ready to strike at a moment's notice. He knew he had nothing to worry with Barsad by his side and their other brother Xane guarding the outside door. 

He gestured toward the man through the mirror. "Bring him to me."

The Penguin had gone silent, finally ceasing his mindless chatter, and glanced between the two men, confusion on his face. Barsad left the room, swiftly and quietly shutting the door behind him. Bane rose from his seat to stand near the mirror, in order to watch how the man would react to orders from Barsad. It pleased Bane to see that the man protested and twisted out of Barsad's firm grip. His dark eyes flashed with fury and held up his hands palms out, speaking rapidly to Barsad. His brother simply nodded and remained silent, but he stepped forward slowly and the other man stepped back, right into Xane's crushing grip. 

"He's very pretty. I like them with a little fight in them," the Penguin had moved to stand beside Bane, as though he thought they were equals. His eyes were fixed on the mirror, his tongue darting out and licking dry lips. He reached down and adjusted himself with his ridiculous, disgusting fat fingers. 

Without even a thought, Bane snarled; the sound emanating from the mask somehow more feral and metallic than usual. He was gratified to see the Penguin's eyes widen as he took a stumbling step back.

"You do not touch him. Your information is not worth much to anyone with your tongue ripped out." 

The Penguin nodded frantically, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"Of course, of course, Bane. I would never."

"I'm going to need you to leave us alone." He turned his attention to Barsad and Xane entering the room, effectively dismissing the despicable idiot.

He was amused to see that it had taken both of his brothers to bring the man into the room, and he was still struggling, his eyes fierce and his feet kicking out angrily. Bane laughed, he was tired of sycophants and grovelers. This man, who appeared too outraged to even feel any fear, was a breath of fresh air. He would most certainly look forward to getting to know him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur couldn't see any weapons, except for the man's massive forearms; they looked as though they could do some serious damage all by themselves. That shouldn't be turning him on, but even through his fear, he could feel a thrum of lust low in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by [ Heather ](http://www.theshorteststack.tumblr.com)

Arthur's mind raced as he struggled against the grip of the two men holding him. He had enemies but he usually knew who they were and this guy, this HUGE guy, wasn't someone he recognized. Maybe it had something to do with the extraction on Gordon. Somehow he didn't think so, the guys holding him had those red scarves on and he was beginning to think he'd stumbled upon something he wasn't prepared to handle.

The other man, obviously the leader, towered above him. Not just in height, but in sheer mass. He wore some sort of mask across over his face made of leather and metal tubes that gave Arthur the impression that the man was perpetually snarling; like a predatory animal's jaws. He had to admit that the mask was strange, but he'd actually seen worse in a few leather bars in New York. Everyone had their kinks, who was Arthur to judge?

He continued to struggle whilst cataloging the man's every detail. He was wearing a tight black shirt and cargo pants, his thumbs hooked into some sort of militarily utility belt. Arthur couldn't see any weapons, except for the man's massive forearms; they looked as though they could do some serious damage all by themselves. That shouldn't be turning him on, but even through his fear, he could feel a thrum of lust low in his stomach.

It really had been too long if he was being turned on by a kidnapper. The man spoke in a high metallic voice, and it took a minute, but Arthur realized the man was speaking Urdu. He smirked, knowing that no one would expect him to understand. Arthur was the best point man there was; of course he knew fucking Urdu. 

The masked stranger asked the other two to leave, and they immediately released him. Arthur stood, still rubbing his wrists where the bigger of his two assailants had gripped them behind his back.

"What the fuck do you want?" Arthur spit out at the man.

"Patience, gattino." The man's eyes crinkled, and there was something about them, and the pet name, that gave Arthur deja vu.

"Arthur. "

"What was that?" The man still hadn't moved.

"My name is Arthur. Not kitten, or whatever else you think you can call me."

"Oh, but you are so small and have such sharp claws. I think I prefer gattino."

"Like I give a fuck what you prefer. Can we just get on with it, what do you want?"

A rumbling sound emanated from behind the mask, and Arthur realized it must've been a laugh. 

"My name is Bane. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Can't say the same." Arthur grumbled. He was actually starting to feel a bit silly. Aside from the manhandling from his goons, the man was being perfectly nice. And Arthur was acting a bit petulant. He stood up straight and tugged his waistcoat down where it had ridden up.

The man stepped forward and Arthur instinctively stepped back until he hit the wall; the combination of alcohol and confusion causing him to make stupid decisions. Bane stepped into his personal space, his arms coming up to either side of his head, boxing Arthur in.

Arthur felt his cock twitch at being crowded in that way, he knew his face must be bright red and he held up his hands to push Bane back away from him. He felt the other man's chest, radiating heat through his shirt and so hard. He swallowed a little and pushed ineffectively. Bane let him try but didn't move.

He slid his hands down the wall to Arthur's hip level. They felt huge as he curled them around the wings of Arthur's hips; he pulled gently and Arthur went stumbling forward, crushed up against the other man's broad chest. He tried to remember why he hadn't wanted this, and he was sure that there was some very valid reason, but his cock was responding and he could feel it pressing against the inside of his zipper.

Bane slide his hands behind Arthur, to his lower back, and pressed him even closer. He slowly tugged Arthur's shirt out of his pants and slid his hands up bare skin, running one up along his spine. Arthur made a noise in the back of his throat that he would later consider embarrassing, and hid his face in Bane's shirt. Bane laughed and pressed his mask into the crook of Arthur's neck, lifting his hands away and coming back with Arthur's gun.

"You will have no need of this, gattino." He reached behind him to place it on a side table.

Arthur attempted to protest and push back again, but Bane wrapped his arms back around and lifted Arthur as easily as if he were the kitten the man insisted on calling him. Arthur gasped and on instinct he wrapped his legs around Bane's thick waist, holding on tight. There was no hiding his erection now, luckily he could feel Bane's cock rubbing back against his, as the man pressed him against the wall and rolled his hips slowly, his hands gripping Arthur's ass.

"Nnnnggg." Arthur groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. He did his best to meet Bane's thrusts from his position against the wall. It started out slow but quickly sped up as they artlessly ground against each other, Arthur growing louder and louder the nearer his orgasm became.

"Bane, I'm gonna come." He managed to gasp out before going rigid and shaking as he came in his ridiculously expensive pants. Bane thrust two or three more times before coming with a grunt and Arthur's name on his lips. 

They stay like that, panting; Arthur's wet gasps and Bane's mechanized ones filling the quiet room. Bane took a step back, releasing Arthur and dropping him down to the ground. Arthur was grateful for the wall at his back, his legs were a little wobbly at the knees, and he wasn't sure they'd hold him up just yet.

Bane pressed a thumb to Arthur's mouth, pulling his bottom lip down. Arthur kissed it and quickly sucked it in, before Bane pulled his hand away.

He was smiling behind the mask, if the crinkling around his eyes was any indication. Arthur reached up with a still shaking hand to run a finger over the bristling tubes. He raised a questioning eyebrow, but Bane merely shook his head and stepped out of reach.

"Thank you, gattino. I would have liked to have you properly but there is no time for that now."

He grabbed a large sheepskin coat and shrugged it on, never taking his eyes from Arthur.

"Stay in Gotham." It sounded like an order, but Arthur imagined he could see a question in the other man's grey eyes.

He nodded, still a little out of breath.

"Good. I will find you."

With one more press of his thumb against Arthur's mouth he left, letting the door close behind him. Arthur gathered himself up and was happy to see his gun was still on the table. He went through the motions of pulling out the clip and checking the rounds, before clicking it back in. The routine soothed him, he needed it as his mind was racing a mile a minute. He'd just come in his pants like a fucking teenager with some sort of gang leader. Who spoke more than one language. He'd let himself be disarmed because he'd been horny. And wasn't that just stupid for someone who knew better.

Arthur shook his head. He was still alive and just had the best orgasm he'd had in a long time, maybe in his whole life and hadn't even taken his clothes off. He'd be more cautious next time, he'd make sure of it. He attempted to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him that there shouldn't even _be_ a next time, and made his way out of the bar, not bothering to look for his jacket; it was probably gone by now anyway. He huddled against the wind, wincing at the feeling of his sticky underwear. At his hotel, after stripping and showering, he lay on the thin mattress and tried his best not to think of Bane.

It wasn't quite as easy as he would have liked. He considered researching the man, but the lethargy from orgasm and the alcohol had him drifting off on top of the covers. He'd worry about it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [ tumblr ](http://www.sweetbutterbliss.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

It had been two days and Arthur hadn't heard anything from Bane. He thought the name was pretty perfect actually, because the man was the bane of his existence right now. He was staying in a city that was falling apart, after a failed job, like some kind of amateur. All in the hope of getting laid.

He hadn't even been able to come up with anything about Bane from his research. He'd even called in some favors and all he'd gotten back was that the man was bad news, and something vague about the League of Shadows. He was sure the last part must be a mistranslation because the 'League of Shadows?' It sounded like the name of some cheesy martial arts movie; ninjas and Bruce Lee. 

As he prepared for bed on the second night, he vowed that he'd be leaving in the morning. This was starting to get embarrassing. His face burned as he remembered the feeling of Bane's large hands on his hips; the bruises that he'd left there were already starting to fade, much to Arthur's disappointment.

He palmed his cock through his sweatpants, arching up a little into his hand, imagining Bane and all of his heavy bulk pressing Arthur down into the mattress. He pushed his sweatpants down his thighs and grabbed his cock, already hard and leaking a little. He didn't try and make it last long, he pulled on his cock without any technique; his hand moving quickly and twisting almost viciously. It didn't take much for him to come, letting out a moan as he did, and reaching for the tissues to clean off his stomach.

He began to fall asleep almost immediately, vowing to leave Gotham in the morning and go find someone to fuck as soon as possible. So he could get back to his life and some kind of normality, where he didn't wait around for huge, masked men to come and fuck him.

***

Arthur woke in the middle of the night with a jerk. He couldn't see or hear anything immediately, but he still slid a hand under his pillow and pulled his gun out. He held his breath to try and hear more clearly, but his heartbeat was too loud in his ears.

"Please, don't shoot," a voice drawled, completely un-panicked from the darkness. A man stepped out of the shadows, his hands held up in mocking submission. He was skinny and about Arthur's height, and wore one of those red scarves, and what could possibly be a permanent smirk. He also had a rifle slung around his neck, resting behind him, and even in the near pitch dark, Arthur could tell that it was a sniper rifle.

Arthur gripped his gun tighter. A sniper rifle wasn't ideal for close up work, but it would still put a nasty little hole in his head. He knew that the other man could see the gun, but didn't seem remotely concerned, his hands were still up in front of him, but his posture was relaxed; that maddening smile still playing across his lips.

"Who the fuck are you?" Arthur ground out between clenched teeth.

The man shrugged, dropping his hands and hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. "That's not really any of your concern."

"The fuck it's my concern. You show up in hotel, armed, in the middle of the night? I'd say that at least deserves a name." Arthur swung his legs around to sit upright, lowering his gun but keeping a firm grip on it and his thumb on the safety.

"Fair enough. My name is Barsad."

"Arthur." He wasn't sure why he just introduced himself to a stranger, but forgive him if he was a little confused.

"I know. I've come to retrieve you for my brother." 

"Your brother? Bane?" Arthur ventured a guess, still wondering what the fuck was going on.

"Yes. Bane. He has asked for you."

Arthur chewed on his lower lip, considering the facts. All of his senses screamed danger; this man was a killer and wouldn't hesitate or feel any guilt about doing the same to him. But he'd been waiting around for Bane like a fucking lovesick puppy and now here was his opportunity. It would be beyond pathetic if he didn't take it.

"Fine. I'll go with you. But I get to keep my weapon. And you're not blindfolding me or any of that kind of shit."

Barsad shrugged. Arthur figured that was as much of an answer as he was going to get, so he gathered his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, taking his gun with him. He pulled on his pants and buttoned his shirt with slow careful movements. The ritual, as usual, calmed him and once he was buttoned up, and had his gun securely in its holster, he felt a little more in control. And he honestly couldn't deny the spark of excitement low in his belly, no matter how much he would've liked to.

He opened the door, sweeping the room for Barsad, and panicked when he didn't see the other man. He heard a minute shuffle behind him, then a sharp pain, followed by nothing but darkness.

***

Bane could feel the rage rising in him and he struggled to control it. He was willing to hear Barsad out, the man was nothing but loyal to him. He spared a glance toward the limp form of Arthur, sprawled across the bed in his makeshift room, then he turned and silently fixed Barsad with a stare.

"Brother, he insisted that he be allowed to bring his weapon, and wouldn't be blind folded. The only other option was to bring him unconscious. He will be fine. He's strong. Worthy. "

Bane felt a twinge of pride at that. He knew the man was intriguing, and somehow superior to the usual civilians they encountered, but to have Barsad confirm that made it all the more real. He couldn't be sure he'd been thinking clearly through his lust, but now he was more confident than ever.

The last two days had been difficult; he'd wanted to return to the other man the minute he'd left the bar. But the mission, and Talia's desires, came first, as always. He turned his back, effectively dismissing his second in command.

He sat down on the bed next to Arthur. He liked the way that name sounded, he'd read all the books he'd been able to get his hands on, and he remembered fondly the King and his knights of the round table. It was a noble name, fit for a warrior. And despite his size, his gattino was truly a warrior.

He brushed dark curls off Arthur's face, quietly observing the sleep relaxed expression there. He realized he hadn't even seen the man smile yet. He wondered how that would look, would his eyes dance the same way they did in fear and anger? He would do his best to draw it out of him when he awoke.

Arthur groaned and mumbled Bane's name. Bane froze and waited silently until he heard it again. It made him feel warm and wanted; an almost completely alien feeling for him. He sighed through the mask and stood, moving to his desk to begin going over the plans for his destruction of Gotham. He knew them all by heart, but there was no place for mistakes, and he needed something to take his mind off the other man. He wanted to take off his mask and press his teeth into that lovely pale skin; mark him and prove, to anyone else who tried to touch him, that he was owned by Bane. He knew it was a folly to dream of such stupid things, but it couldn't quite halt his thoughts entirely. He returned to his paperwork, the deep, steady breathing from the bed filling the silence as he waited for his gattino to wake up.

***

Arthur awoke slowly. He kept his eyes shut and his breathing steady. This was his normal tactic; never knowing what might greet him when coming out of a dream. He couldn't tell where he was, there was no light against his eyelids, and he could hear the distant sound of running water. There was a damp, musty smell lingering in the air, and as he registered a metallic, whooshing noise that sounded vaguely familiar to him, he became aware that he was lying on a bed.

He cautiously opened his eyes; above him was nothing but concrete and countless huge, crisscrossing pipes. He turned his head to the right to find Bane watching him. He was reclining in a worn, leather computer chair; the thing looked frail and spindly like it was about to crumble beneath his bulk.

"You know I was awake?" Arthur asked, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. He didn't have any pain or dizziness, just felt a bit groggy. Barsad must have used a pressure point of some kind. 

"Yes. But I'm impressed, gattino. It's very smart to remain as though you are asleep, and attempt to get your bearings first." The man was smiling again, the skin wrinkling around his blue eyes.

"My _name_ is Arthur." Arthur mumbled, knowing it would do him absolutely no good.

"I know what your name is, Arthur. I just prefer to use my own name for you. Is that really such a hardship?"

Bane stood and made his way toward the bed, his hands hooked into the utility belt he still wore. Arthur swallowed, and his hands balled into fists as he felt a shivery anticipation in his stomach; a strange mixture of fear and lust. Bane stopped in front of him, close enough that their legs bumped together, as Arthur looked up at the miles of bare skin and muscle until he reached Bane's face. The other man cupped his face and gently tilted his head back, rubbing his thumb across Arthur's mouth until Arthur opened for him; he tasted like salt and some other spice. Arthur sucked it in and licked around it, feeling the other man groan; a deep rumble emanating from deep in his chest. He was momentarily reminded of the giant cats he'd seen on wild animal documentaries.

Bane pulled his hand free and pushed at Arthur's shoulders until he was flat on his back. Arthur looked up at him and licked his lips, feeling himself getting hard already. Bane, with a surprising amount of grace, straddled him, one knee on each side of his hips, pressing down into the mattress.

"I have thought of you often in the past two days, gattino."

Arthur laughed self deprecatingly, and nodded. "Uh...yeah, me too."

Bane touched a finger to Arthur's face, his eyes crinkling. "Aww see...you _are_ a little kitten. You have a very disarming smile."

Arthur scowled up at Bane. He hated his dimples, and he knew they made him look all of fifteen on a good day.

Bane laughed, a scratching, distorted huff emitted from the mask.

"But I mustn't forget you have claws."

"Mmm...speaking of claws." Arthur propped himself up on his elbows, his face inches from Bane's. "I don't care what happens, but don't ever let anyone do that again. I was more than willing to come to you. If someone knocks me out again, even you, I'll come up shooting. I won't need fucking claws, I will kill someone. Anyone."

Bane sat back on his heels, studying Arthur's face. His eyes were no longer smiling, and Arthur tensed, waiting for some sort of blow. 

"You are serious," Bane reached down and stroked Arthur's sides, but Arthur made no attempt to respond.

"I promise you, gatt...Arthur, that no one will ever take you without your permission again."

Arthur relaxed, lowering himself back down onto the bed.

"Alright. That's good enough," He smiled at Bane, letting his dimples show, and was rewarded with more crinkling around Bane's eyes.

He reached up, waiting for Bane to jerk away, and he could feel the other man still, until he bypassed the mask and stroked the bare skin around his eyes.

"I assume this means you're smiling?" Arthur asked, no higher than a whisper.

Bane ducked his head and pressed his mask to Arthur's forearm.

"Yes, I am smiling." His voice though, sounded sad, and Arthur felt like he'd asked the wrong question. He knew that now wasn't the time to ask about the mask. 

Arthur lowered his hands to grip the broad shoulders above him, and used the leverage to roll his hips up against Bane's. Bane's eyes fluttered closed, and he lowered himself enough that their bodies touched from head to toe. Arthur groaned at the other man's strength, his arms bracketing Arthur's head were huge. All of his instincts told him to surge up and kiss Bane, and it felt strange not to be able to. He licked his lips and pulled impatiently at Bane's clothes. The other man chuckled and sat back on his heels, removing his belt and right black shirt with one smooth motion and revealing his hairless, barrel chest. Arthur had expected some sort of six pack or something, but the man was just thick and had a bit of a tummy. Still, Arthur had no doubt it would be hard as a rock once he got his hands on it. He began unbuttoning his own shirt, sitting up in the V of Bane's bent legs to struggle out of it. Bane helped him, undoing his belt and his pants; he pulled them down, briefs and all, lifting Arthur's hips up to tug them off and drop them on the floor.

Arthur wasn't self conscious, he knew he looked good. He preened, stretching and arching his back. His cock was already red and leaking precome as it smeared his stomach where it rested. Bane watched him, his eyes dark, and ran a calloused hand down Arthur's chest, stroking them through the precome. He brought his hand up to Arthur's mouth, who sucked on the fingers eagerly, absorbing his own taste with his tongue. He lowered his eyes and watched Bane through his lashes. Bane made a sound that could only be described as a snarl, and pressed Arthur down by his hips with his free hand. He gripped tightly, his fingers pressing into the pale skin; his entire hand spanning all of Arthur's hip.

Arthur moaned and pressed up into him, unable to move, and becoming more turned on by the second. He'd never had a size kink before, but this huge man holding him down was making his dick throb and his mouth go dry. He also wasn't entirely sure he'd ever had sex in a sewer with some kind of terrorist before, but his libido didn't really give a shit right now, so he decided to run with it and worry about it later.

Bane moved off the bed and Arthur whimpered when his hands left him.

"Shhh, gattino," Bane stroked Arthur's hip consolingly and moved back to his desk. He rummaged through a drawer and came back with condoms and a huge bottle of lube. Not a little sample pack, but a huge, economy sized bottle.

"Jesus Christ. How much fucking do you do down here?" Arthur warred between laughing and seething with jealousy.

"It has not been opened. Do not worry, it is only for you. Allow me to, and I'll show you how much 'fucking' I can do down here," Bane was undoubtedly smiling now, possibly at Arthur's display of jealousy, and Arthur felt his face flush.

"I don't care who you fucked before," Arthur lied through his teeth. "Just as long as I _am_ the only one while you're with me." 

"Mmmm. Little kitten, you come with so many demands. Why should I meet them when I have made none of my own?"

Arthur simply smirked and put a hand behind his head, reaching down to stroke his own cock, gasping and arching up off the bed; playing it up a bit, putting on a show for the other man. It worked; Bane quickly pushed his own pants off and knelt down on the end of the bed. Arthur abruptly stopped stroking and his mouth fell open. People always assume that big guys like Bane have huge cocks, but in Arthur's experience they were actually usually completely average, maybe even looking a bit smaller surrounded by all of their bulk.

Bane was apparently the exception to the rule, and maybe even the reason for the stereotype. His erection wasn't even close to average, it was huge. Thick and long, bobbing between his equally large thighs. 

"Wow. That's...you're kind of huge," Arthur stuttered.

"Yes? Am I supposed to say all the better to fill you with?" Bane raised an eyebrow.

Arthur laughed, a little nervous and even more turned on.

"Yeah, you're the big bad wolf alright, but...let's take it slow?" He shifted over a bit and pulled at Bane's arms until he was lying next to him. Their feet tangled together, and Arthur could feel the body heat coming from the other man.

"We can take it however you want, gattino. I don't plan on letting you leave without taking my due."

"Your due? Just so you know, I'll leave whenever I want. I'm here because I want to be." Arthur needed to make this point clearly, his voice forceful as he did so. 

"Of course," Bane laughed. "I have no doubt about that. You are fierce, and something to be feared. "

Arthur scowled as Bane laughed and traced his jawline with thick fingers.

"You'll find out if you fucking cross me," Arthur pushed at Bane's chest to create some space between them. He was smaller than Bane but he wouldn't be thought of as weak. He could hold his own and needed Bane to respect that.

"Gattino, I'm only teasing a little bit. I do believe that you are a warrior of some kind. You _are_ to be feared. And by my side you will be." Bane pressed his mask against Arthur's neck; it was cold and he felt gusts of air coming out, the medicinal smell more apparent this close to his face. Chills ran down his spine and pressed his body against Bane's, gasping as their cocks rubbed together. He rolled his hips and they slid together, the skin catching and the precome making them sticky. 

Bane reached around behind him and Arthur heard the snick of the cap followed by the squelching sound of the lube squirting onto Bane's fingers. He nudged Arthur's leg higher, his hand sliding up behind Arthur's balls. Arthur keened, gripping his leg at the knee to spread himself wider as Bane pressed a slick finger into Arthur's hole in one quick, smooth motion. Arthur gasped in surprise, all thoughts fleeing his mind as he rocked down onto it.

"More," He gasped out.

Bane simply hummed in reply, adding a second finger. He worked it in slowly this time, rubbing the two back and forth, crooking them as he searched for Arthur's prostate. He laughed when Arthur's body jerked and he cried out, but continued to push until Arthur was cursing at him and demanding more.

"I thought you said you wanted to take it slow?" Bane's voice was infuriating, calm and only a little breathless.

"Fuck you," Arthur gripped at his slippery legs and his free hand pushed at Bane's chest. Bane laughed and added a third finger in retaliation. Arthur could feel Bane's eyes on him, cataloguing each reaction. His mouth fell open but he couldn't make any actual noise when Bane added a fourth finger, stretching him as wide as possible. He breathed through the slight burn and pushed himself down onto them, allowing his head to fall back onto the bed.

"Okay, okay. Enough..." He was cut off as Bane brushed his prostate again, gasping and writhing in pleasure.

"Damn it. Bane...lie down. Let me do this." 

Bane crooked his fingers once more, laughing as Arthur tried to glare at him and moan at the same time. He felt empty and open when Bane removed his fingers and lay back, looking up at Arthur. Arthur lay on his side, catching his breath, but before he could work up the energy to get up, Bane gripped him by the hips and lifted him up and over until he was straddling the other man's sizeable bulk. Arthur let out a laugh and flattened his palms against Bane's chest to balance himself. He couldn't use much leverage in his legs, since they were spread so wide across Bane's hips.

He sat up straight, moaning as he pulled at his cock a little, grinding his ass against Bane's erection. Nerves settled in his stomach thinking of how big it was and whether or not he'd be able to take it all, but Arthur was never one to back down from a challenge, and he'd waited three days for this.

He groped around in the covers to find the bottle of lube and slicked his hand generously, lifting up on his knees as he reached behind himself to grip Bane's dick. He slicked it with the lube, not being able to see what he was doing, he felt a bit clumsy but he was able to get it slick enough that it slid easy back and forth in his hand. Later he would have to explore it a bit more, up close and personal. 

Bane reached out, steadying Arthur at the hip and circled his cock; Arthur's head fell back and he moaned, thrusting forward into Bane's hand. He heard Bane groan and he ran his free hand up to pinch Arthur's nipples. Arthur fumbled with the condom, his messy hand making it difficult, and he finally just ripped it with his teeth and twisted around so he could roll it down Bane's dick. He shivered and bit his lip, guiding the head into his hole and sat back slowly. He gasped as the head breached him, pausing and tilting his hips forward as he waited to feel less full. He pressed his hands back against Bane's chest and leaned forward to watch the other man. Bane had both hands clutching Arthur's hips now, squeezing and releasing, his eyes closed and his thighs shaking.

Arthur began lowering himself in increments until he could feel Bane's thighs flush against his ass. He circled his hips, getting used to the feeling of him inside and the slight burn. Bane squeezed so hard that Arthur winced and punched the man's chest lightly, causing his eyes to fly open in surprise.

"Be careful, big guy," Arthur was relieved when Bane loosened his grip and nodded.

"Sorry, gattino. You just feel so good. I forget myself."

Arthur felt heat rise in his chest at the compliment. He lifted up slowly and dropped back down heavily, his eyes watering a bit from the pain, but it was worth it when Bane's eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned loudly. Arthur continued to grind down onto his cock, rocking his hips in circles, and when he felt like he was ready again, he slid off and slid back down just as tantalisingly slow. He could tell Bane was struggling not to thrust up into him, his stomach quivering and his breath coming in harsh gasps. He teased the man a few more times and Bane lost control only a little, thrusting up shallowly a few times, jostling Arthur and then stopping with a muttered groan.

Arthur pulled up one last time and held himself there. Leaning down close to the other man's ear, he licked at the man's neck and bit down gently. He looked the man in the eyes and said in a quiet, serious tone.

"Fuck me, Bane."

Bane froze, his eyes wide, hesitating to move. Arthur smirked and started to pulse on just the tip of Bane's cock, never moving any further down the shaft.

"Or, we can do it my way the whole time. If that's what you want."

Bane cursed in some language Arthur couldn't make out and gripped Arthur's hips tightly again. He lifted his knees, bracing his feet on the bed, and pushed up into Arthur's tight hole. He didn't go fast like Arthur had expected, but they were still brutal, hard, steady thrusts, bottoming out each time. He manhandled Arthur, holding him up and using him, dragging long moans out of the smaller man. Arthur was grateful for the other man's strength because he wasn't sure if he could have held himself up as he was slammed into each time. He was sure he was just uttering one long moan now, and babbling when he could manage to catch his breath. Bane's breathing was speeding up, and while he still seemed in control, his thrusts were increasing in time with his breath, his balls slapping against Arthur's ass. With one last thrust he spasmed underneath Arthur and came with a muffled 'Gattino.'

The feel of Bane's throbbing cock in his ass was enough to make Arthur come without a single touch to his own cock. He cried out in surprise as his orgasm overtook him, and he came all over his stomach and Bane's. Bane reached up and threaded his hands through Arthur's hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him down, unconscious of the mess between them. He was still half hard, and Arthur could feel him still deep inside him. It felt good though, to be full and tired, lying across Bane's broad chest. Bane scratched through Arthur's hair and hummed quietly.

"You must rest, gattino. I will have to leave you for now. But I will be back."

Bane gently extricated himself out from under Arthur and returned with a damp cloth.

"There, my little warrior. Clean and sleepy." 

Arthur tried to protest the 'little' part, but all that came out was a sleepy mumble. Bane laughed and pressed two fingers to his mouth. Arthur kissed them as his eyes drifted closed.

The last thing he heard was Bane warning him not to leave the room.

"I cannot protect you when I am not here, kitten. Please stay safe for me."

Arthur was already past the point of answering, fast asleep before the words even registered in his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur woke up alone, vaguely remembering Bane saying something about not leaving. Well, fuck that; he wasn't some prisoner who was going to wait around to get fucked. He sat up and winced at the ache in his ass; it was a good ache though, totally worth it. He was glad that Bane had wiped him down, but he could really use a shower. He stepped into his pants, wincing a bit as he bent over, feeling the effects of last night on his sore muscles. He examined the fingerprint shaped bruises on his hips before he buttoned his pants over them.

Once dressed, he looked around the room; and really, he used the term 'room' in the loosest sense of the word. It was a very nice...cave, as far as caves went. But still a cave nonetheless, the bed shoved into a dark alcove and a huge wooden desk scattered with papers. He shuffled them around, scathing two or three different languages, and blue prints and schematics for what looked like some sort of bomb. He couldn't be entirely sure, and his fingers itched for his laptop to do a bit more research to confirm his suspicions.

Arthur took a deep breath and wondered what he'd gotten himself into. He left the papers and made his way to the door, pausing and stepping to one side before opening it. He let it swing out and bounce back against the wall. When he heard nothing, he stepped into a damp stone tunnel, hearing rushing water close by. He was in the sewers possibly; definitely underground at least.

He was surprised when he didn't encounter anyone, but as the tunnel widened he could hear voices echoing against the stone. He didn't have any choice but to carry on forward or turn around and go sit in the room, waiting around for someone to fetch him. So basically, no choice in Arthur's mind.

The voices became louder as he approached the opening of the tunnel. They were loud and boisterous, but not in an angry way, more reminiscent of a lot of men letting off steam. The tunnel opened up into a large space with a catwalk circling the room. Men were gathered in groups, he saw a few wearing the red scarves but not Barsad or Bane. The majority of the men, whilst they held guns and mixed amongst the other men, didn't seem the same. They held themselves differently. At a glance, Arthur could tell that Barsad was deadly, even without a weapon. These other men looked scary but not _deadly._ They also seemed less disciplined, scuffling and arguing with each other; making general nuisance of themselves.

He stepped out onto the catwalk and looked down over the railing. Two men were fighting each other in the middle of the room, a ring of people surrounded them and he could see money exchanging hands. _'Just people letting off steam.'_ Heavy boots rang out on the metal behind him, and Arthur whirled around, holding up his hands placatingly.

The man laughed; he wasn't a Red Scarf, but Arthur wasn't going to let his guard down anyway. The man mimicked Arthur, holding his hands out before him. 

"I'm not going to hurt you, man. Thought you might be hungry," he gestured down to the floor where there was a makeshift cooking area set up.

"I might be," Arthur lowered his hands and shrugged.

"Well it's nothing special. Just rice and some beans. But it's food."

"Yeah. Okay. Lead the way."

The man led Arthur down some stairs, their progress watched by those not distracted by the fight. A bowl of rice and red beans was shoved into his hands by a greasy, hook nosed man with a cigar hanging from his mouth. He nodded his thanks and followed the first man to a bunch of crates to sit and eat.

"Name's Benji. Catch." Without warning, he threw a water bottle and Arthur caught it, completely unflinching. Benji looked impressed. "Nice catch, man."

"Thanks. I'm Arthur by the way."

"Yeah, I know." 

Arthur chose to ignore that in favor shoveling food into his mouth as quickly as he could. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until food was right in front of him. 

They ate in silence for a minute until Arthur's spoon was scraping the bottom of his bowl. He was considering asking for more when a hand pulled him up roughly by his elbow, his bowl clattering to the ground.

An oily faced man with a beaked nose shoved him toward the middle of the room. He wasn't a Red Scarf, but he was twice the size of Arthur. Arthur stumbled a bit, finding his balance and straightening up. The fight was over and it looked like its spectators were coming closer to see what the commotion was.

"Look, it's Bane little whore."

There were some catcalls and guffaws. Arthur didn't respond, just observed the man before him. He wasn't going to be taken off guard. Benji stood slowly, his breath huffing out as he reluctantly put down his meal.

"Hey man, we have orders here," his shoulders rounded and his tone put upon.

"Nobody cares. Who the fuck is this Bane to give me orders? Can't be all that tough if he's into sucking cock."

There was some laughter and a nervous, but anticipatory, murmuring. 

"Maybe we should see how good this little one is. He must be something, to distract our great and powerful leader."

"So you're going to try and get me to suck your disgusting cock? That's not gay at all, asshole." Arthur crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

Benji shot him an apologetic look and sat down with a definite _I did my duty_ air as he took his bowl back up. 

"Are you calling me a fag?!" the other man roared.

"Of course not," Arthur scoffed. "I'd never insult the word like that."

"What the fuck that's supposed to mean?" The man's face had turned red; twisted in confusion.

"It's really hard to insult stupid people," Arthur sighed through his nose. He released his arms and stood relaxed, attempting to look as harmless as possible. It wasn't too hard, people always equated his size with easy fights.

The man roared and rushed at him, fists swinging. Arthur neatly stepped out of the way with a smile and gave the man a push on the back, propelling him forward to crash into a pile of boxes. The man flailed on the floor, pushing boxes and styrofoam peanuts out of his way before he stood again.

Arthur waited quietly as the man came at him again. Just before he made contact, Arthur used two fingers to jab the man in the throat. His opponent immediately clutched his throat and fell to his knees, gasping for breath. Arthur used the toe of his boot to knock the man the rest of the way over. He sighed, genuinely disappointed at how easy that was.

He rolled his neck, keeping his eyes on the crowd, bouncing a little on his feet. They couldn't just let it lie apparently, the crowd parted and a man nearer to his size stepped out, the gap closing up again behind him. The crowd was silent now, only quiet whispers waiting for the next blow.

The other man stripped his shirt off and threw it down, walking around the perimeter eying Arthur. He smirked and thumbed his nose, putting his fists up and turning side face. Arthur rolled his eyes. This asshole thought he was a prize fighter or something. Arthur shrugged and calmly rolled up the sleeves of his button up, internally wincing at the thought of blood ruining it.

He put his own fists up and waited.

This fight lasted a little longer, the other man getting a few hits in, knocking Arthur's head back and bruising his chin, giving him a black eye. But Arthur was pleased that the man was obviously trained and giving Arthur a real fight. They circled each other, Arthur getting in a few more punches at the man's unguarded ribs. He got him in the nose and the jaw, one right after the other; blood sprayed out across the front of Arthur's shirt. The other man looked dazed and his swings were becoming erratic and wild. Arthur danced around a little, letting him get tired and feel the pain.

Eventually he got bored and went in for a final blow, he could feel the jarring up his arm when his fist connected with the other man's face again. Spit and blood flew out as the man hit the ground with a wet thud. Arthur stepped back, waiting to see if he would get up, flexing his hands open and closed, trying to ignore the bruising and cuts forming there.

The man wasn't passed out, Arthur didn't have that kind of power, but he was definitely down for the count. He lay on his side, cradling his ribs and breathing heavily. Arthur leaned closer and squatted next to him, just out of reach.

"You okay, man?" he asked.

The man nodded and winced when that obviously hurt him. Arthur stood back up and scanned the crowd. On the catwalk he saw the huge, imposing figure of Bane, his hands tucked into his vest, a huge soft coat over the top. Arthur couldn't tell from down here, but he was pretty sure the man was smiling at him and what he'd just done. Arthur shook his head and shoved his rapidly swelling hands into his pockets.

"Is there a medic here? He might need one," he called out to the crowd and started for the stairs. The crowd moved out of his way and he could here the noise gradually begin to rise to normal levels again as he approached Bane.

"I knew you were a little warrior, Gattino," Bane reached out and cupped his face, mindful of his blooming bruises.

"How long were you there?"

"Long enough."

"So...long enough that you could've put an end to it," Arthur scowled and stepped out of reach.

"Perhaps. But I wanted to see what kind of claws you had, Arthur."

Arthur sighed and shook his head, making himself dizzy. 

"Come, let us tend to your wounds. We can discuss why I am here, and why you are here with me."

Arthur shrugged.

"Why not, curiosity killed the cat and all that."


	5. Chapter 5

Bane did explain. About purging Gotham and how the fire rises; he spoke about this woman, Talia, with an almost hysterical light in his eyes. Arthur wasn't some innocent, he was a criminal and he'd killed men, buried bodies even, but this fanaticism didn't appeal to him.

It was unfortunate that he couldn't help himself when it came to Bane. At first it was the sex, amazing wring-him-out-unable-to-move-afterwards sex. The delicious, fucked out, full feeling as he lay in the bed waiting for Bane to wipe him down. Bane seemed to enjoy the ritual, not missing a spot as his brows furrowed in concentration.

Then it was the fights. Not fights exactly, but debates, heated arguments about books and philosophy, and even dreamshare. Bane was surprisingly well read and knew a lot about Arthur's business for a scary bag of rocks terrorist.

The one thing they didn't talk about, except for the first time, is Bane's mission, and certainly not Talia. Bane seemed disappointed that Arthur didn't immediately drink the Kool Aid; and Arthur privately thought that Talia sounded like a manipulative, shady bitch, but he knew better than to say that out loud.

He was able to travel freely in and out of the sewers since the fight, most of the men giving him a wide berth and respectful nods. He walked the streets of Gotham, considering leaving and not looking back; he shouldn't be there when the so called fire rises. It was a nice way to say 'bombs, and mayhem, and death.' Bane and Barsad had been making plans to move everyone out of the sewers and to one of the empty hotels within the next week.

Every day he looked toward the bridge leading out of Gotham and knew that his window of time was narrowing, but still he turned back to the sewer entrance and scrambled down the ladder once more. When he wasn't with Bane, he was playing cards and smoking with idle, red scarved men. It turned out League of Shadows was their actual name. They called themselves brothers and began calling him the same.

Despite himself, it warmed him to hear it; to feel accepted and belonging somewhere. He hadn't felt that way since Mal died. Dom had gone crazy and then almost got them all trapped in limbo without any hint of regret. The stupid thing was that he would've probably even agreed to it if Dom had only asked. But his unshaken loyalty had disappeared the moment Dom had begun screaming at him on the first level. He realized with a dawning sense of relief, that he didn't need that kind of shit. Dom had been his family, his brother. Now he was just another work acquaintance. Arthur was beginning to realize how painfully lonely he'd been recently. He could cross that bridge, go back to California, take more jobs and in between...sit at home avoiding phone calls from his Inception team mates. Instead he'd decided to bum a cigarette off somebody and practice his Arabic while losing all of his non existent money to Barsad. The man had perfected his fucking poker face.

Barsad didn't like him. He wasn't rude, he didn't even ignore him, spoke to him normally, even smiled tightly at him occasionally. But his sleepy blue eyes spoke of his distaste. Arthur saw it loud and clear but couldn't figure out what the issue was and it bothered him in a purely curious way. Maybe a hint of a self preservation was embedded in his motive; he wasn't interested in getting another knock on the head from the man. He had a feeling he may not wake up from it next time.

It didn't stop him from poking at Barsad, who took it with a smirk and raised eyebrow. He refused to rise to the bait until the day he returned from what looked like a particularly grueling day. He was grimy and his eyes were haunted. Bane had said he had to return to where he was born and had left Arthur with a press of fingers to his mouth and a squeeze of his hips.

Barsad had slumped against the wall, fumbling for his cigarettes. Arthur took pity and plucked the package out of his hands, lighting one for Barsad and himself.

"You look rough," he commented, taking a drag as he leaned beside the other man.

Barsad merely shrugged and focused on the opposite wall.

"Where's Bane? Did he send you off to do all the dirty work?" Arthur half heartedly joked and was surprised when Barsad turned on him and shoved him roughly against the wall, Arthur's head knocking painfully against the concrete.

"You do not get to speak of him that way. He is a leader who gets his hands dirty. He would never...never send me to do something he would not do himself," he has his forearm pressed across Arthur's throat, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Arthur nodded as best he could, hands scrambling at Barsad's arm. Barsad nodded sharply and stepped back, looking mildly chargrined.

"I am sorry. That was uncalled for," he didn't look at Arthur as he spoke.

"No. It's okay. I was just joking anyway." Arthur gasped, trying to catch his breath again.

"I am not allowed to touch you of course. But I cannot have you talking about my brother like that," Barsad stood stiffly, his chin held high. Something in his eyes had Arthur finally putting two and two together.

"Oh. You love him," Arthur blurted out without thinking twice.

Barsad's eyes widened but he nodded once. "Yes. I do."

"Does he know?"

Barsad merely shrugged and turned to walk away. Arthur watched him go, finally realizing why Barsad had never liked him. He shook his head and tried to tamp down his guilt. It's not like he knew, and though he admired and respected Bane, he didn't think he loved him. Not the way Barsad must, to watch him be with someone else and stay painfully silent. No, he definitely didn't love Bane like that.

***

As the time grew closer for the "fire," Arthur saw Bane less and less. His time was taken up by Talia, Barsad at his side constantly. They moved to the hotel and Arthur could tell that something is coming; the city was a barren, snow covered wasteland when he looked out of the high rise windows. He didn't venture out much any more; people were hungry and scared. And they'd gotten dangerous, Arthur couldn't defend himself against an angry mob.

So he sat in the hotel room, regretting not leaving when he had the chance. All the bridges and out roads were blocked now. He'd started to miss his friends. He knew now that they were his friends, now that he can't have them anymore. He missed Yusuf calling him up to work out a formula concept in the middle of the night, his voice excited as he went over the theory and made notes on Arthur's contribution. Ari was always good for a dose of reality, she'd stayed in the business, but with one foot firmly planted in her actual life. They'd get tiny cups of coffee and sit on the Paris streets judging people and laughing. He didn't miss Cobb per se, maybe just the normality of Cobb; the comfort that the man would always be a little crazy and couldn't be trusted, but never came to Arthur with a boring job.

He refused to allow himself think about Eames, except he did. The reminder not to think about him, always caused his mind to flood with memories. They'd never gone beyond a few drunken kisses and some groping but there had always been something there, dancing ever tightening circles around them. He felt guilty, his chest tight when he realised that he was here thinking about someone else when Bane was so obviously invested.

He'd get up to go and find someone to play cards or spar with, and his thoughts would clear, and he'd try not to feel like an idiot for staying in a dangerous situation and allowing himself to get trapped there.

***

That night, Bane was especially gentle; his hands traced Arthur's body like he was memorizing it. He took his time, making Arthur arch and plead before he gave him what he wanted. Usually he was up and gone with only a brief embrace, but tonight he lay with Arthur's head pillowed on his wide shoulder, carding his hands through Arthur's loose curls.

"I will miss you, Gattino," he whispered, the mechanical wheeze of his mask almost drowning out the words.

"Where am I going?" Arthur asked drowsily.

Bane didn't say anything, just inhaled and exhaled slowly.

"Did you know that Barsad is in love with you?" Arthur asked, out of the blue.

"What did you say?"

Arthur propped his chin up on Bane's chest, so he can look up at the man.

"Barsad. He loves you. How can you not tell?"

Arthur saw Bane's eyes crinkle slightly and he made a quiet rumbling noise.

"I had not known. Does this bother you, Gattino?"

"No. I mean, maybe a little. But I think you and I both know this isn't some epic romance we have here," he smiled and felt a sense of relief when Bane laughed quietly.

"No. I suppose it isn't. Although I do love you in my own way, little kitten. You are fierce and I only wish I had found you sooner. I would have trained you as a brother."

Arthur knew that this was the highest compliment he could receive from Bane; to be considered worthy of his brotherhood. It made him smile as he nodded his thanks.

"I wish I'd met you earlier, too."

They ignored the fact that it didn't matter either way, since they'd all be dead soon. Bane sighed and rubbed circles on Arthur's back until he drifted into sleep, his dreams full of fire and desperate running.

***

He woke up in an unfamilar place. He was in some sort of transport truck, tucked between two storage containers. He sat up feeling groggy and spotted Xane, one of Bane's right hand men. He wordlessly handed Arthur a bottle of water. Arthur cracked the seal and guzzled half of it down in one breath. The crook of his elbow was sore and he examined it, fingering the barely-there injection site. He cursed under his breath before Xane passed him a rucksack and, to his surprise, the PASIV case.

"There's a note," the man gestured to the front pocket of the bag.

Gattino,

I know that I promised you that I would not catch you off guard again. I lied. I wanted you to be safe and away from the destructive effects of this diseased city. You are my warrior and I want you to thrive and use that fight.

I will die knowing that I did the work I believe in, but you do not deserve the same fate.

The letter wasn't signed, but of course Arthur knew who it was from as he brushed his fingers across the page. Bane's writing was curled and flowing, surprisingly elegant for a man, a terrorist, who grew up in a barbaric prison. Arthur sighed and leaned back against the rumbling walls, feeling tears in his eyes but refusing to allow them to fall. They were a mixture of grief and not a little relief.

"We will be leaving you in New York City. We are almost there. You should try and sleep."

Arthur simply nodded and let his eyes slip shut, the vibration and sway of the truck, along with the lingering effects of the drugs in his system, lulling him to sleep easily.


	6. Chapter 6

It took Arthur a little while to get back into dreamshare. He realized he did need to be alone for a little bit; actually alone, not running away from his shit into the arms of a terrorist and almost dying. So he took a vacation; he chose an anonymous beach with lots of white sand and a bar where they served those little fiddly drinks that came with umbrellas. He lay in the sun and let himself get over everything that had happened. He'd never before allowed himself to process the Fischer fall out. The job may have been a success technically, but it had also been a cluster fuck and brought up some uncomfortable realizations about his best friend and his own flawless record.

He did some research and discovered that the fire hadn't "risen" after all. Someone had stepped in at the last minute, and he read about Talia al Ghul, nee Miranda Tate's, death. Positive that if she was dead then Bane had fallen soon after, he let himself grieve for a man he barely knew but had a nameless connection with.

When he was done, and itched with boredom, he picked up the phone and called Ariadne. She had laughed tearfully and then berated him for letting everyone think he was dead for almost half a year. 

"Yeah, I might have a job," she hedged.

How much had changed that tiny Ariadne was in charge of jobs now? She filled him in on most of the details and admitted that she needed a pointman.

"Is Cobb a part of it?"

She snorted into the phone.

"Fuck no. Even if I wanted to work with him, pretty much no one else will. He's stuck at home, blacklisted."

"That's probably for the best then," Arthur mused, pushing his toes into the sand.

"It's not a particularly difficult job. Maybe I'll hire you so you can prove yourself again. I'll be the team leader that brought Arthur back from the dead," Ariadne schemed to herself.

Arthur huffed out a laugh.

"Wow. I remember explaining the concept of totems to you not all that long ago."

"Yeah well, I've moved on. Bright lights, big city and all that."

"Alright, send me the info then."

"I will. Eames will spit when I tell him."

"Eames?"

"Oh yeah, he's our extractor on this one."

Arthur swallowed and forced himself to say goodbye and see you soon, instead of grilling Ariadne for information on the Englishman. He grinned to himself and stood up, dusting sand off his trunks and trudged back up to his hotel, imagining the look on Eames' face when he sees Arthur. Life was short, he was ready to say fuck it and drag the man back to his hotel as soon as he saw him. Ariadne would just have to wait and brief them after.

***

_One year later..._

Eames was lounging on the bed in just his boxers and Arthur frowned at himself in the mirror, wishing they had time for a quickie before they met with the new chemist to stock up for the next job. Yusuf had retired with his considerable wealth, but Layla was just as good. Infinitely more trustworthy anyway, which made her ten steps above Yusuf anyday in Arthur's book.

"Darling, it's alright. We can come back and fuck six ways to Sunday after this," Eames smirked because the asshole always could read Arthur's mind.

"Then get up and put some fucking clothes on," Arthur grumbled as he tied his tie in the mirror.

Eames just laughed and took his time bookmarking his spot and shutting his book before swinging his legs around to get out of bed.

***

Layla was a smiling, endlessly tall woman who had a penchant for gossip that Eames liked to indulge, and Arthur put up with because let's face it...he'd put up with a lot to make Eames smile and laugh.

"Have you heard about the new extraction team?" she said over her massive pile of pancakes.

"No, love. Do tell?"

"Well they're supposedly pretty fucking terrifying."

"Oh? As terrifying as my lovely Arthur? Look at that scowl," Eames poked at Arthur's forehead, causing Arthur to frown deeper.

Layla laughed. "No, no-one's as scary as Arthur."

"Naturally."

"Oh for fuck's sake. Who are they then?" Arthur cut in, stabbing at his salad.

"Well, they kind of came out of nowhere. The extractor has some ridiculous name...I can't remember. Something scary...damn it. It's like an adjective...'Evil?' or 'Bad' maybe? He wears some weird mask and no-one knows why exactly, or has seen him without it."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Bane?"

"Yes! Also he has a point man, I guess. Some quiet, skinny thing; rumor is they're a couple," she gestured at the two men as if to say 'like you two.'

"Barsad," Arthur didn't even bother to make it a question.

"Yes! So you've heard of them?"

Eames gapes at Arthur, who just grins in return.

"How do you know who they are?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, I didn't know them as dreamsharers," Arthur shrugged but couldn't stop himself from smiling. He's pleased that Bane and Barsad are alive and well. He believed that they made a terrifying team and hoped that the rumors of them being a couple are true. He looked forward to working with them in some way. He couldn't imagine that their intense presence in a dream was anything short of breath taking.

Eames glared at him but remained quiet until they made it home, a discreet suitcase full of gently rattling somacin bottles.

"So. Who are these guys?" Eames turned on him almost immediately that they walked through the door.

"Nobody. Just old acquaintances." Arthur smirked cagily.

Eames squinted," Right. Bloody bullshit."

"Are you jealous?"

"Do I have anything to be jealous about, pet?" Eames clenched his fists and breathed deeply through his nose.

"No. Not at all," Arthur wrapped his arms around Eames' neck and kissed him, backing him towards the bed.

He spent the rest of the night proving to Eames that he was it for Arthur, and had nothing to be jealous of. If Eames was a little more possesive, biting marks and brusing hipbones, Arthur didn't mention it. God only knew how he'd react when he finally came face to face with Bane. Arthur couldn't wait for that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this may not have gone exactly how you may have expected. It didn't go how I expected either. I just had a lot of issues when it came to finishing it and this is the only ending that worked in my head. So I truly hope you still like it and I didn't disappoint anyone too severely. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and your patience.


End file.
